


How to Avoid a Bloodbath

by LamiasLuck



Series: In Another Life (AUs) [1]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood, Gen, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2020-05-19 20:06:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19363375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LamiasLuck/pseuds/LamiasLuck
Summary: The Host's always an interesting figure in the ego manor, there's a lot to be curious about, after all. His mannerisms, his library, his stories... and his blood. Well, in a manor full of vampires, anyone's blood would be interesting. The Host lives in a very particular environment to say the least.Aka, a vampire AU where every ego is a vampire except the Host. Him constantly bleeding from his eyes results in some very pushy pests. This is a collection of oneshots that give you a taste of his life. His very tiring life.





	1. Normal Days

One would ask: what’s it like living in a house full of vampires?

“Fucking exhasting” Is what the Host would say.

Long gone are the days of fear, whether or not the Host would survive the night was no longer a concern. Still, just because the mosquitoes he lives with don’t kill him, doesn’t mean they aren’t annoying pests. 

Deep down, he knew he was apart of this “family” and was equal to the others, despite his human-like qualities. Besides, there was a strict No Killing/Mutilating rule Dark enforced onto the others. Only a fool would disobey that man, so no conflicts emerged. If anyone _were_ to attempt to attack the Host, there would be a lot more blood spilled. And it definitely wouldn’t be his. 

However, there were ways to get blood out of the Host without hurting a hair on his head. Through his eyes. Or specifically, those two empty, permanently bleeding sockets where his eyes should be. That’s why he still needed to take precautions.  

He and his metal bat were practically attached at the hip. Sure, that weapon may hold some unwanted memories, but it was a sacrifice he was willing to make for a sense of security. At least he knew how to use it. He made sure to dress appropriately too, alongside his trenchcoat, he has also taken to wearing turtlenecks or scarves, no matter how hot it got. 

Even the environment he surrounds himself with was vampire proof. While the scenery didn’t match his aesthetic, the Host managed to fill his library with as much natural sunlight as possible. Little naps in a sun filled room allowed him to be up like a light during the night. Of course, this was never enough. The Host needed to eat, afterall.

“Hey, Host~” Bim trailed after him while he was making some toast.

“Go away.”

“Aw~ Don’t be so cold, Host! We’re all friends here, right?”

“Yes, the Host supposes that is true.” He kept Bim away by poking his chest with his bat. “But friends do not use each other for food. Especially, if they want to use their friends for their blood.”

Bim pouted and dramatically sighed.”But you’re eating  _ your  _ food.” He pointed at the toaster. “Why can’t  _ I  _ eat  _ my  _ food?” He paused, then gasped loudly. “You don’t want me to starve, do you? Or do you want me to kill an innocent? I thought you didn’t like unnecessary death?”

If the Host could roll his eyes, he would. “Interrogations” like this were common, unfortunately. Maybe he should make some coffee to go with his breakfast. “The Host would argue that the people you kill are necessary deaths, you need blood to survive. The Host would not write a vampire character in a story and have them not kill anyone because they are innocent.”

Bim huffed, but had nothing to rebuttal with. He finally left while grumbling apologies. Now left to his own accord, the Host said narrations to himself. He nearly wanted to yell when he had to narrate: “the others crept around the corners, observing the Host.”

“Fucking christ…” He muttered. “The Host just wants to make some food. Can he not walk around for five minutes without being hunted down?” Was he like a dessert for vampires? He didn’t want to find out. 

“We just wanted to see if you’re alright!” Dr. Iplier chimed in. “You always stay in your library so we got worried and thought you died.”

“You all are capable of literally  _ smelling  _ one’s heartbeat, even if it’s a heartbeat bunkered away in a library.” He walked closer to the doctor, ignoring the other’s eager reaction. “When was the last time any of you ate? It’s like you have not eaten in a century.”

“It has been: 7 days since the non-hunting vampires have eaten,” Google, one of the only other non-vampires, suddenly revealed. “And it has been: 5 days since the hunting vampires have eaten, excluding Dark and Wilford.”

All the vampires shifted awkwardly upon hearing the android’s statistics. The Host let out an exasperated sigh and rubbed his temples. With all this stress and nonsense, he could feel his sockets bleeding more than usual. It was a vicious cycle.

“The Host sympathizes with his follow friends, but he will say how irresponsible it is to neglect such important cravings. You are all adults here, and should be held accountable as such,” He said sternly, harshly gripping his bat.”The Host will not be used as an easy food supply.”

He tensed up more when he heard a distinct ringing approaching. Everyone froze in place when Dark walked in the room. 

“What are you all doing in the kitchen?” He glanced at the Host, then smiled knowingly. “Ah, I see. Hungry?” 

Dark was only met with wide-eyed looks from the others. With a crack of his neck, his smile vanished and was replaced with a scowl. “You’re all lucky I found some food. If you’re willing to hunt tonight, follow me. I made plans.” And with that, Dark walked out the room. A few of the egos that could fight scampered after him.

The Host grabbed his plate of, now cold, toast and prepared to leave. He also grabbed a few snacks for the future, intent on staying in his library the whole day. The rest watched as he hastily walked out the kitchen, practically sensing his annoyance as well as they could smell the fresh blood staining his face. They exchanged guilty looks amongst each other.

 

The Host burst through his library’s doors. He basked momentarily in the warmth of the sunlight beaming through the windows. Or maybe he felt the warmth from the blood streaming down his face? He didn’t care.

His narrations were rushed through gritted teeth. No matter how long he’s lived here, he couldn’t get used to their infatuations. With a clean plate and a dirty face, he rummaged through the drawers in his office until he found some fresh bandages. The tedious process of cleaning his sockets was something he’s grown accustomed to. Though he still subconsciously cringed at the overwhelming metallic smell. 

Besides the Host’s narrations, the room was quiet. No vampires, no troubles. Yet, he couldn’t shake off this feeling of annoyance. Instinctively, he began to set up his radio equipment and got a couple stories ready. Nothing like a live reading of thriller stories to help fix a bad mood! He cleared his throat and turned on his mic, prepared to escape from this manor, even if it’s just for a couple hours.

 

Just as the Host turned off his radio equipment, someone knocked on the library doors. He groaned and got up begrudgingly. As he made his way to the doors, he made an effort to audibly drag his bat across the floor. Thankfully, when he opened the door, he wasn’t met with a blood hungry ego. Instead a plate of food with a note attached sat on the ground. He picked up the note first and mumbled its contents, an apology note. In neat cursive letters, “We are sorry”, was written alongside various signatures from the other egos. On the back was a short message:

_ It appears that some of us have been unsuccessful in hunting lately. We apologize for causing you strife, we will not kill nor hurt you in any way. I am sure you know this already. If you experience more trouble from the others, report it to me immediately. I will deal with it accordingly. _

_ -Dark _

Well, that’s kinda nice. Kinda. The Host picked up the plate of food and snorted at what they made him. Blood sausages.


	2. Different Strategies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The other egos try another approach on getting the Host’s attention. Through flirting. It goes about as well as you imagine it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The stories aren't directly connected to each other btw, the next one for this collection will probably be about the Author.

Another day, another hour of vampires breathing down the Host’s neck. Everyone’s head turned when the Host walked in the living room, but he just focused on Dark. The entity was talking to Wilford, the two greeted him politely. 

“Dark, the Host finished those files you wanted.” He was asked to research potential victims, potential meals to be specific. “He hopes that this suffices. If you want, the Host can influence their lives to make your process easier.”

“There’s no need, Host. I appreciate your work as always.” Dark couldn’t help but stare at the dried blood staining the other’s face. “You look like you should rest.”

“The Host has been through worse.” He said, then turned slightly towards his observers. “Perhaps he should take his leave though. Is the Host not wanted here?”

“On the contrary, I’m sure the others would love your company.” Every other ego nodded their head enthusiastically. Dark stepped closer to the Host, standing a few inches away from him. “Unless, of course, you’re busy?”

He paid no mind to Dark’s closeness nor his uncommon hospitality. He was no stranger to the vampire’s schemes. “The Host supposes he can stay for a few moments, but he needs to visit Google lat-”

Wilford suddenly chimed in from beside Dark, “Great to hear, Hosty!”. He excitedly pushed him towards a couch. He sat the Host down between Dr. Iplier and Bim. “We never have the time to catch up, you know? Perhaps you should join Dark and I for dinner tonight?”

“Dinner? Pray tell, what will be on the menu?”

“You, if we’re lucky!” Wilford said with a wink. 

The Host sat dumbfounded, subconsciously backing further into the couch. “Is that a threat?” He asked, shifting in his seat. 

“What? No! You just look dashing today-”

“It only sounded like a threat, Wil.” Dark interrupted from behind the Host.

“Shush Dark!”

“Like the Host said, he needs to visit Google in his office later today. He politely declines your offer.” He looks “dashing”? Maybe he doesn’t know every scheme they had under their sleeves. He was surrounded on all sides, though Wilford backed up tremendously when he realised he accidently threatened to eat the poor man. 

 Dr. Iplier pressed closer against the Host’s side. Before he could question his actions, the doctor hooked a finger underneath the collar of his turtleneck, pulling it gently. Upon feeling those cold, undead fingers brush against his neck the Host jumped and stuttered. 

“You’re wearing the same sweater you’ve worn yesterday.” Dr. Iplier unhooked his finger. “No other turtlenecks?”

“The…” He swallowed harshly. “The Host has little time to go out and get more clothes.”

“We should go out sometime. I’ll take you out shopping if there’s a mall open late.”

“Oh, thank you,” The Host hummed to himself, trying to decipher everyone’s sudden kindness. “But you do not need to spoil the Host, doctor, he has little to repay you with.”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s my treat.”

“I should come too!” Bim interrupted. “I always make sure to look my best. I can make you look great, sweetheart!”

_ “Sweetheart!?” _

Oh, so  _ that’s  _ what’s happening. The omnipotent man finally connected the dots.

“Are you all… flirting with the Host?”

All the vampires were silent.

“Is it working?”

 

“They tried to  _ bed  _ the Host.” He repeated, more so to himself out of disbelief. 

Bing laughed so hard that his voice became more robotic. The Host was sitting across from Google, who was working at his desk with a curious expression. Besides Oliver, who was trying to get Bing to calm down, the two other extensions were listening intently, seemingly just as curious. 

It wasn’t uncommon for the Host to spend time in the pristine Google office. Naturally, he wanted to cling onto anyone who wasn’t a vampire. None of the androids minded, in fact they welcomed the composed ego’s presence, as long as he didn’t get blood anywhere. 

“Quite a different approach.” Google said, not looking up from his tools. “Perhaps there are alternative motives behind their actions.”

“Yeah, they just wanna get in your pants dude!” Bing said between his fit of giggles. Google and the Host grimaced at Bing’s crude bluntness, but still considered it as valid reasoning. 

“Another explanation could be that they miscalculated and went overboard with their hospitality.” Oliver suggested. “They never want to hurt you, so maybe they’re running out of ideas to get closer to you?”

“The Host supposes,” He blushed, recalling the events. “However, the Host’s reaction must have suggested otherwise. He would not be surprised if they apologize for their behaviour later today.”

“Or they try to tie you down again.”   


“Shut up, Bing.” Google scolded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the (somewhat, not really) well-written story equivalent of a shit post, and I am immensely sorry about that lmao. The characters probably don't make sense and I have no idea how to write flirting cause I am a whole child. BUT I'm glad I was able to write the idea that the Host and Google are close in this AU cause that's an idea I wanna explore more.


	3. Unlikely Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Google is the new ego in the manor. He definitely sticks out due to his robotic nature, but perhaps he can find someone he can relate too.

Google scanned his new surroundings, analysing its inhabitants accordingly. Vampires, he now lived in a house full of vampires. The one that had taken him in, Wilford, was eagerly dragging him around the manor and introducing him to every personality. He cared not for them. Though he didn’t really care about anybody. 

“You’ll learn to love us, Google!” Wilford said, far too loudly for the android's liking. 

The android was brought before a vampire surrounded by grey. This man, Dark, simply told him of the rules of the household and made it clear that he wasn’t a force to mess with. Google merely tilted his head slightly and analysed him.

“Alright,” Wilford patted his shoulders as he brought him out of Dark’s office. “That nearly concludes your tour, we can start again when it’s night.”

“Nearly? What else is there to see?”

“More like  _ who,  _ Google!” Wilford corrected. “You still gotta meet ol’ Hosty, but he’s not a very… approachable person.” 

Google tilted his head in confusion. Wilford then left him on his own and told him to “go mingle” with the other egos. But his mind was set on finding the, unapproachable, Host. If he needed to live in this madhouse, then he needed to know every inhabitant. His plan was set, analysis every ego and research potential strengths and weaknesses during nightfall.  He had explored most of the manor during his tour, so there were little options left to go. 

Upon wandering to one of the corners of the manor, Google found a library. He opened the twin doors and was met with a sun-filled room. The setting was exactly what Google expected from a library. There were shelves upon shelves of books, old and new. Some novels were aged by the amount of sunlight beaming from the various windows. The faint smell of blood resonated throughout the room. Another vampire. Wait, vampires can’t be in this much sun? Google assumed his scent receptors needed to be fixed.

 He picked up a book at random and saw that it was hand-written in a neat cursive, written with an ink and pen. He scanned the messy signature on the cover.

_ The Host. _

Perfect. Just the man he was looking for. He put the book back on the shelf before he was surprised by someone walking up to him.

“The Host heard that there is a new ego. He welcomes you, but wonders why you are investigating his library.” 

Google turned around with a grimace. However, his expression quickly turned into a curious one when he saw the Host’s appearance. His scent receptors definitely weren’t broken judging by the blood streaming down the Host’s face. Various bandages were tied around the Host's eyes, the source of the blood according to a couple scans. He was taller than Google and dressed in a turtleneck and trench coat. Did he also speak in the third person? Perhaps he wasn’t a vampire, but some sort of other cryptid.

Google hastily stretched out his hand for a handshake. “Hello, my name is Google. I wanted to meet the others living alongside me.”

“An android…?” The Host asked in disbelief. He eagerly shook Google’s hand and sighed. “Thank god, someone who is not a vampire. Pleased to meet you.”

 

Both men were curious of each other’s mannerisms. Google learned that the Host was basically a human or that he had mostly human-like traits and origins, at the very least. However, the Host was far different from the other insufferable humans Google had dealt with. It was a refreshing change of pace. A similar change of pace the Host felt when he finally found someone not wanting to use him for his blood. In some ways, they found comfort in each other’s presence and it became common to find Google in the library or the Host in Google’s office. Eventually, Bing came along and Google built his other extensions. The Host welcomed them all with open arms.

“When we destroy mankind, we have to exclude the Host,” Google suddenly said to the other extensions. They all paused their work and looked at their leader with a puzzled expression.

“We assumed as much, Google,” Green answered. “None of us want the Host dead.”

“Oh.”

So the Host managed to befriend a group of killer androids that were willing to keep him alive during their inevitable uprising. Well, at least he didn’t have to worry about  _ another  _ group accidentally killing him. He tries to look at the positives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine in this scenario Google and Host would be natural friends cause they like that they're different from the other vamps. I also imagine that Host is this tall, cryptid-like man that looms over a lot of people. Yet, he still runs away when a vamp wants to bother him. 
> 
> Will I make these two date like I did with Host and Eric??? Nah, probably not, I can't imagine Google capable of dating anyone. Who knows though. Btw I'm working on a relationship story with Eric and Host so watch out for that I guess
> 
> (Also, sorry for the long notes but how do vamp bites work?? Is it like a zombie where one chomp turns you or does a vamp need to kill you and drink all your blood to turn you?????)


	4. Pest Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Like the original monster, all the vampires in the ego manor can turn into bats. This leads to new ideas and new schemes. How does the Host deal with this pest problem? Begrudgingly, that's how.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RJ = reporter Jim and CJ = camera Jim

The Jims sneaked around until they stood before the Host’s library. Or, at least they thought they were being sneaky, in reality they were bumbling around like idiots. Luckily, everyone was use to their antics by now.

For once, their reporting equipment was left behind. They probably wouldn’t be able to carry anything with the scheme they had planned. RJ cracked open the door ever so slightly, while CJ tried to peak at the library’s surroundings. No Host to be seen, must be in his office.

Perfect.

The Jims giggled endlessly, they couldn’t walk into the room due to the deadly amount of sunlight the Host surrounded himself in. It doesn’t mean the library was completely devoid of darkness, however. Little shadows managed to find their way into the corners and carvasses in the room, far too small for any adult vampire to hide in. Perfect for small creatures to lurk in.

Their giggles began to sound quieter, becoming more higher pitched in seconds. Tiny squeaks came from the ground and the Jims were gone, small bats taking their place. The Jim twins chirped at each other in their animal forms. All the vampires in the household were capable of transforming into a traditional vampire bat, the Jims forms were easily one of the tiniest, quite fluffy too.

The two bats flew into the library, immediately hiding amongst the shadows. CJ ducked into one of the bookshelves, squeaking for his brother’s location. From the shelf below him, RJ chirped happily in response. Not a single burn on either of them. He looked at the scene before him, stretching out his wings.

Now what was the best route to the Host?

A couple more shelves, a few dark corners, small shadows pressed against the wall. The plan was set. The two chirped back and forth to solidify their plans. 

Within seconds they were off, darting around the room excitedly. Eventually, they stopped at a corner. They were _so_ close to the Host’s office. They could smell the blood streaming down the Host’s face.

Before RJ could fly towards the door, CJ stopped him with his wing. RJ squealed loudly in protest, but soon saw why his brother stopped him. The shadow that they found solace in, was retreating.

The two looked at the windows in horror as they realised the sun was changing the shadows in the room. And they realised too late to escape. Now trapped, the Jims backed further against the wall, hugging each other tightly. They squealed for help, but their voices were too quiet in their bat form. They tightly screwed their eyes closed and prepared to be burnt to a crisp.

The shadow suddenly became bigger, the harsh sting of sunlight never came. The Jims slowly cracked open their eyes and saw the Host standing before them. 

“Jims?” The twins nodded the best they could at the Host. He sighed and was about to speak again before the Jims flew into his coat. While fruitlessly swatting at the wandering Jims, the Host tried to get rid of the pests. “You better not bite the Host! Get off!”

Two bats peaked their heads out of the Host’s sleeve and chirped. They retreated again and skittered around the coat once more. Never biting the man, their original plan was forgotten in exchange for hiding from the sun. The Host realised the danger the vampires put themselves in and quickly brought them outside the library. His steps were awfully sluggish as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He looked at the bats in his pockets and exhaled loudly through his nose. As the days progress that “I have dessert-like blood that attracts vampires” theory seems more plausible.

Finally safe, the Jims poked their heads out of one the pockets on the trenchcoat. They squeaked in a way that sounded like: “thank you”. The Host paid no mind. He walked around the manor until he found Wilford.

“Oh, hey Host! Whatchu been up to-”

“Save it,” he interrupted. “The Host believes he has something of yours.” He opened his pocket to show Wilford the Jims. “Tell them to stop bothering the Host.”

Wilford cooed at the chirping bats and gently picked them up with cupped hands. He petted the top of their heads with his finger as he smiled at a disgruntled Host.

“They didn’t bite you, did they?” Wilford asked, genuinely concerned. 

“No, but they nearly killed themselves trying too.”

Wilford gave the bats a stern look, which caused them to tremble slightly in his hands. “You boys should be more careful! What would have happened if Host didn’t find you?” He shook his head like a disappointed father, the Jims looked down in shame. 

The Host wasn’t surprised by Wilford’s lax scolding. Oh sure, the Jims snuck into his library because they wanted to drink his blood, but that’s common practice at this point, right?

“So, Hosty,” He looked back at the other. “You got anything planned toda-”

“Good day, Wilford.” The Host promptly walked away from the vampires, pausing to say one more comment. "If the Host catches the Jims, or any of the other vampires sneaking around his library like that again, he may not be so merciful. Perhaps he should use  _his_ bat to deal with such pests." And with that, he continued to walk away, making a beeline to his library.

Wilford pouted as he watched the Host walk away. The Jims squeaked to get his attention and he set them down on the ground. Finally, they turned back to their human forms and gave the mustached man a pair of goofy smiles.

“We almost had him! We could’ve done it if the shadows didn’t disappear,” RJ claimed. CJ nodded beside him, though both decided to not talk about how scared they were.

“I’m sure you boys could have done it, but you need to plan ahead more,” Wilford explained. “Why don’t we think of something together?” He patted the twins on the shoulder and ushered them to follow him. The three men walked around the manor, most likely planning another troublesome scheme. 

At this point, the Host deserved a vacation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I absolutely love this story. I've definitely peaked with this particular story/shitpost
> 
> Just a bunch of cute bat bois,,, squeaking to their heart's content,,,
> 
> Also, I googled "Tiny bats" to help imagine the setting and I nearly cried. Moral of the story: google "tiny bats" as soon as possible. No need to thank me


	5. Bloody Beginnings Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Host has adjusted to his life as much has he could. He accepts how out of place he is, and all the attention he gathers. However, he wasn't always this... understanding. In the beginning of his creation, when he was still the Author, the transition to his new life was a rocky one.

The Author lived an abnormal life, it doesn’t take a genius to realize this. Him being the master of his own story allowed for interesting situations. Only for him, of course, things never ended well for anyone around him. But now there was one plot point that continued to baffle him ever since they arrived.

Vampires.

Monsters of the night with strikingly similar features to the Author began to stalk him as soon as the sun set. Or more specifically, a brooding grey vampire named Dark seems to be interested in him. Never hunting for his blood like the Author originally thought. More So watching from afar as if the omnipotent man couldn’t tell he was there. Either way the Author made sure to stay bunkered in his cabin. He was an “ego”? Apparently that’s why Dark was so infatuated with him. 

His cabin served as his safe haven. It was comfortable for one person and small enough to protect with his powers. So when nightfall came and Dark decided to pay the Author a visit, he made sure to put on a brave face. Or he  _tried_ to, at least.

The Author was huddled in one of the corners of his room, beneath the only window and away from his door. A notebook and pen clutched against his chest. Footsteps walked around the doors, crunching leaves in their wake. The Author tried not to flinch at every sound. He had too much to work on, so many novels to write. He couldn’t die here.

There were no weapons he could use against a vampire and he definitely wasn’t a religious man, which meant no crosses either. So the Author depended on what he did best. Writing. With a steady hand, he began to write in his notebook.

_ Dark stalked around the Author’s cabin. Suddenly, he decided that his original motives were pointless and promptly turned around. He left the woods and forgot the Author existed. _

Putting his pen down and closing his notebook, the Author waited. He waited for his power to wash over Dark and the distance sound of his footsteps walking farther away from the cabin. But it never happened. 

“That won’t work, Author.”

His blood ran cold. He opened his notebook again, eyes rapidly scanning his writing. What’s wrong? Unsteady hands began to write again.

_ Turn around.  _

Dark knocked on the door this time. “Your powers don’t work on me. Give it up.”

The second Dark said his orders the Author dropped his materials without hesitation. 

“Open the door.”

His eyes were hazy as he stood up mindlessly. Dark’s words wrapped around the Author’s head and forced him towards the cabin’s entrance. His thoughts conflicted with the vampire’s orders, making him pause right as he put his hand on the doorknob.

With a shake of his head and a hearty slap to the face, the Author snapped out of Dark’s control.

“Fucking christ… is  _ that  _ what that feels like?” he muttered to himself. He backed away from the door when he heard Dark knock again.

“Let me in.” The vampire’s voice was chilling, sending shivers down the Author’s spine. Somehow he still refused, not giving in to whatever mind tricks Dark was playing. 

‘Clear mind, clear thoughts,’ The Author repeated that idea in his head like a mantra.

Dark slammed his fist against the door. The Author was worried about him breaking down the door, then he remembered. Vampires  _ need  _ to be invited into homes. He smirked and walked up to his windows, Dark quickly walked up to it as well. 

“I’m sure we can talk like this. No problems with that, right?” Author nearly laughed as he tilted his head, taunting the vampire. His breath slightly fogged up the window with how close he was to it. All sense of cowardice was disappearing and being replaced with the wonderful feeling of arrogance.

“I won’t hurt you, Author.” Dark was scowling now, baring his fangs slightly. “Let me in,” he repeated.

“You can say that all you want, Dark. I’m not letting the lion get his prey.” His voice was firm, piercing through the thin glass. “Look, I barely know you or that madhouse you want me to live in. Tell your other ‘egos’ that they’ll be short one member. I’m perfectly fine staying in this cabin.”

“You’ll be safe under our care. You’re one of us and that’s something you can’t change.”

“Sounds culty,” Author snickered. “I have no problems pulling an all nighter if you don’t wanna leave,” he continued with a shrug. “Just be careful of the sun in the morning. Or don’t, I have no problems with that either.”

“You act like a child.”

“Says the man who nearly knocked down my door.”

It wasn’t even an hour before Dark got frustrated and left the woods. Which just left the Author alone. He collapsed on his creaky bed and sighed loudly. His heart was thumping in his ears, he had enough adrenaline to run a marathon. 

“I’m one of them, huh?” He asked out loud. All the evidence was there. Surely, this would tamper with his life eventually. He ignored his panic and screwed his eyes closed. Why can’t he make his own story? He wanted to live a life of luxury. 

Was it because he was a monster too? 

 

The sound of rushed writing filled the otherwise quiet cabin. Another sleepless night, another story to tell. 

_ Luke wandered aimlessly around the woods. He had gotten lost within the vast maze of trees. There was little hope for his return.  _

The Author chewed on the end of his pen as he thought of his next words. Transitions, he was always sloppy with transitions scenes. He had little time to think this through. Luke could only wander around for so long. 

Wait, why is Luke not following the story?

The Author could feel his character running from something. But that scene doesn’t come till later. Immediately, the sound of pen scratching on paper was heard again. Everything should be in order, the monster hasn't even been introduced yet. Eventually, Luke’s presence couldn’t be traced down. 

Without hesitation, the Author stood up from his chair and walked out of the cabin. He practically growled while gripping his baseball bat. Nothing pissed him off more than uncooperative characters. 

He weaved through the woods effortlessly. At first, he checked the location Luke  _ should  _ be in. No trace of him anywhere. Continuing his search begrudgingly, the Author looked for clues of his character’s whereabouts. 

A twig snapped in the distance.

The Author honed onto the sound and ran in that direction. He made it to the location with his bat at the ready. Luke was there, but not scared and confused like the Author thought. Instead, the Author was met with his cold, dead stare.

“What the fuck…?” He looked around frantically for the culprit. From beneath his feet, Luke laid in a bloodied heap, clearly not killed by the monster he planned to include in the story. 

“I’m glad you could make it.” A familiar voice spoke from the shadows.

Before the Author could respond, his back was slammed into the nearest tree. He instinctively closed his eyes as the wind was knocked out of him. His bat fell out of his hands, rendering him defenseless. As he opened his eyes, he was met face to face with Dark. There was blood trailing from the vampire’s mouth and even bloodier hands held the Author in place against the tree.

“Wha-What are you doing here?” He couldn’t help his stutter as Dark’s gaze pierced through his soul. 

“You weren’t complying, so I had to improvise,” Dark nonchalantly said. “You should have let me in.”

“Right. That.” The Author swallowed coarsely. “So what now? You’re gonna kill me? I thought I was one of you guys?” It was hard to keep his usual cocky attitude with a vampire breathing down his neck.

Dark hummed lowly, considering that thought for a couple seconds as he looked at the pitiful display. “Tempting, but I think I’ve had my fill,” he said while glancing at Luke’s body. “My apologies for ruining your story, of course. But I’m sure you know why I’m here, Author.”

“Okay, fine. I can stay in that manor for one day. After that I’m going back to my cabin.”

“That’s not enough.” Dark’s voice was laced with venom. He tightened his grip on the Author’s arms and watched the fear fill in his eyes. The Author let out a strangled gasp at the dull pain and began to bargain. 

“Come on, I don’t want to stay there,” the Author pleaded. “I’ve read lots of stories where there’s one human in a group of vampires and  _ none  _ of them end well. Let me stay here. Visit me all you want, but let me stay here.”

Dark was quiet, he face was unreadable. After a few seconds, he released his hold on the Author. “Fine.”

The Author stumbled as he backed away from the tree. He quickly picked up his bat and attempted to regain his confidence again. 

“You’re still staying one night, you need to meet the others eventually,” Dark continued. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow.”

Dark then receded back into the shadows, leaving no trace of his presence. The Author was left with a crisis and a corpse. One day in that manor could leave him as dead as Luke. The path back home seemed longer, this could be the last time he’s seeing the sights afterall. His notebook laid untouched on his table, he’d definitely need it tomorrow. 

Did he clean up Luke’s corpse?

No, absolutely not. He can be coyote food for all he cares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, a little Author origin story! There's only two parts to this plot and I'm working on the end right now. It should be out soon! Also, I think I remember vampires having a weird mind control power. Idk if that's completely true or if I used it correctly but hopefully it's not too bad.
> 
> I also really like spooky Dark if you couldn't tell lmao


	6. Bloody Beginnings Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of the Author's origin in this AU!
> 
> (Please note there is slight gore and violence)

Just as Dark manifested himself in front of his cabin doors, the Author fished out his best pen from a drawer. 

The vampire knocked on the door. “Auth-”

“Yeah, yeah, wait a sec.” He slung a backpack over his shoulder and answered the door. “Alright, let’s get this over with.”

The other egos accepted the Author well enough. Though he worries that their hospitality comes from a place of hunger rather than comradery. Including Dark, there were 6 vampires. They ranged from crazed reporters to a literal doctor that was trusted to care for people. That fact amused him the most. 

The Author nodded silently or gave simple responses whenever the other vampire’s tried to talk to him. He couldn’t count how many times he subconsciously scratched and covered his neck with his hands. Attention was something the Author usually sought out for, but this made him feel like prey in the grasp of a predator. 

The tour of the manor was brief. If the Author wasn’t scared for his life, he’d honestly like to live here. It was the type of luxurious life he believed he deserved. That life shouldn’t be paid with his blood though.

There was a grand library hidden in one of the corners of the mansion, stuffy and untouched. The temptation to stay only grew stronger as the Author gazed at the shelves of books.

“Only Dr. Iplier and I use this place,” Dark said, a hint of amusement present as he noticed the Author’s wonder. “The others aren’t ones for reading.”

“I can tell,” The Author snickered. “And here I thought you were trying to charm me again.”

He held his notebook in his hands and looked at it in consideration, Dark glanced at it as well.

“This library could be yours, you know.”

The Author paused to really think about that option. All of this space could be his, it was easily twice the size of his little cabin. As he looked at the shelves all he saw was space for his work. Still, he shrugged his shoulders. “No, I think I’m good.”

“Seriously?”

“Is it alright if I go to my room now?” The Author didn’t bother arguing. “I have a new story to work on… thanks for that by the way.” His sarcasm wasn’t hard to notice.

_ Clear mind, clear thoughts.  _

 

Unsurprisingly, the Author couldn’t sleep well. Not only because he had work to do, but also because of the horrid, man-hunting creatures lurking around. By the time morning came by he was passed out on the desk, notebook and pen spread out randomly. A knock on the door caused him to snap his head up at the sound.

“Just come in… as long as you don’t kill me, ” he mumbled still half asleep. Dr. Iplier walked in and looked at the scene before him.

“So you didn’t sleep well?”

“Gee, what a great observation, doc.” He put his head down again. “Is that genius what got you your medical degree? Or did you kill your teacher for it?”

Dr. Iplier huffed and crossed his arms. He wanted to rebuttal with something equally as snarky, but it seemed like a fool’s errand. “Dark said he can take you back home, if you want.”

“Thank god!” the Author groaned from the desk, before abruptly standing up to pack his things. “I can’t believe I survived here. Wilford was eyeing me like a goddamn child in a candy store.” 

“None of us are going to hurt you.” A frown dawned on Dr. Iplier’s face as he watched the Author dart around the room. 

“Said the wolf to the sheep,” the Author continued matter of factly. Before he walked past the doctor on his way out he gave him a wink. “Trust me, doc, you don’t want someone like me in this house.”

 

Dark was, naturally, apprehensive about letting the Author go on his own accord. But nothing convinced him to stay, so what else could he do? As they teleported inside his cabin, Dark hissed and backed away from the sunlight beaming through his window. 

“Oh, so you don’t die immediately in the sun… interesting, interesting,” the Author muttered to himself, causing Dark to scowl. He mentally jotted that down for a future story. “I’ll admit, this has been an interesting adventure. It got me hooked straight from the beginning!”

“You act like this is over, Author.” Dark’s voice was intimidating despite him having to hide in the shadows. “Don’t forget that you’re still one of us. I will routinely check up on you every other day, starting tomorrow.”

It wasn’t long before Dark vanished into thin air, clearly aggravated by the sunlight. The Author didn’t care about his absence. If anything, the vampire’s statement reminded him to get more turtlenecks. What was he? A goddamn child? “Routine checkups” sounded like a rule a parent would enforce if they had an annoying kid. 

Whatever, for now the Author focused on more important matters. He fished out his notebook from his backpack and picked off where he left off. A new victim, or  _ character  _ as he liked to call them, needed to be found for his next story. Easy enough, finding the perfect character has become something the Author could do with his eyes closed.

In fact, after a few hours the Author found who he thinks will be fantastic main character material.

Gerome Culver.

A 25 year old man in his prime from London. From what he saw, nothing about Gerome’s life was extravagant, but that wasn’t the point. If anything, the Author picked out characters based on how well they could run away from hypothetical monsters and killers. The Author  _ made  _ their lives extravagant, so why improve upon perfection?

Every element of the story had to be perfect. Worldbuilding was half the battle, and most of his characters didn’t take too well to be included in such adventures. It was tricky, but it should be ready for Gerome by tomorrow. When Dark visits the Author.

Impatience was one of the Author’s vices. Quite the big one too. He wasn’t going to let someone else determine his schedule, certainly not a goddamn vampire. He was  _ better  _ than them. Who was creating whole stories from scratch? The Author.  _ Certainly  _ not those vampires. He wasn’t a monster like them, he was a god!

And he’ll be damned if he let someone stop him from creating.

 

“Motherfucker!”

Gerome wasn’t cooperating. The Author slammed his fists against his desk and bit back a scream. Apparently, Gerome was more resilient than he anticipated. He sent a wolf, a full grown wolf, to rough up the main character, only to find out that Gerome was capable of fighting the animal off with little injuries. The Author doesn’t know how he did it, but he did know that Gerome had already thrown off the pace of the story. 

Like he does with every uncooperative character, the Author got his baseball bat and set off outside. His notebook and pen were left on his desk in his fit of impulse. 

The hunt began as the Author searched for any signs of his character. The woods were oddly quiet during his investigation, even the insects decided to stay silent this somber evening. A cold breeze sent chills down the Author’s neck and he gripped his bat closer to his chest. He doesn’t remember writing such a creepy atmosphere, it almost made him want to turn back. Almost.

It wasn’t long before the Author saw a figure in the distance. With quiet steps, he sneaked closer to get a better look and there he was, Gerome wandering around as confused as ever. Before he could knock Gerome out, he abruptly turned around and surprised the Author.

“Who are you?!” Gerome yelled, clearly aggravated. 

The Author kept his steady stance at his character’s booming voice. “I should be the one asking the questions here. You’re ruining my story.” 

Understandably, Gerome was taken aback with that statement. “The hell do you mean by that…?”

“I  _ mean  _ that I wrote this perfect story and you’re fucking everything up!” the Author had a frantic tone to his voice. He waved his bat as he paced angrily, mumbling about what plot holes he needed to fix.

Gerome stood frozen during the Author’s ramblings. While still unsure of the specifics, he understood one fact. He was being controlled by the Author.

For a brief moment, the moonlight shone on Gerome. And the Author realized he fucked up. He saw those sharp, deadly fangs glisten in the light. 

No longer than a second later, Gerome attacked the Author. 

The next few minutes were a blur. Not only because it happened so quickly, but also cause Gerome immediately slammed the Author’s head against a tree. In his dazed state, he managed to land a couple hits with his bat on the vampire. Though it only angered Gerome further. 

The vampire tackled him to the ground, baring his fangs and aiming for his neck. The Author managed to hold Gerome’s head back in his struggle.

“Let,” the Author gasped as Gerome hissed at him. “Let me go, you bastard!”

Gerome could barely move his head with the Author pushing him back at full force. So in his fit of frustration, he got stabbed his claw-like fingers deep in the Author’s eyes. A blood wrenching scream could be heard throughout the silent forest. The Author frantically clawed at Gerome’s arm until he finally retracted his hand.

Only to be bitten no longer than a second later.

Gerome sank his fangs in the side of the Author’s neck and slowly drank his blood. The Author blindly flailed and twitched at the sharp pain. His voice nearly gave out from his screams, leaving him in a fit of broken sobs.

It wasn’t long before he felt himself growing weaker. His body betrayed his want to escape as it slowly became unresponsive and limp. The metallic taste of his own blood flooded his mouth between coughs.

The Author couldn’t tell how long it was until he felt Gerome’s body being thrown off him. He barely registered the sounds of Gerome’s sudden struggle and instead focused on staying conscious. A task easier said than done, to say the least.

Someone else kneeled beside the Author. He assumed it wasn’t Gerome, judging by the fact this person wasn’t ripping him to shreds. He felt them apply pressure to his neck wound and try to get his attention.

“Author, stay awake.” Dark’s voice was distinct and clear, but to the Author, he might as well be speaking underwater.

“Dark… hurts… it hurts,” the Author whimpered, voice painfully weak. His breathing was raspy and barely present. His eyes were wide open, yet he only saw black. He felt his power fighting against his morality, but still, his body became limp.

Despite Dark’s best efforts, he felt the Author’s heartbeat stop. He swore quietly to himself as he backed away from the body. Too late, just minutes too late. And now the newest ego was dead by his feet. He’d have a lot of explaining to do, but he couldn’t leave the Author to rot here. 

The Author’s fingers twitched. 

Dark’s eyes widen at the sight, but he blamed the movement on post-death spasms. He needed to bring his body back to the manor, as bloody as he is.

This time, the Author’s entire body shuddered before he could pick him up. The Author’s head turned to the side, in a way, staring at Dark with vacant eye sockets. For a brief moment, Dark felt the sheer power coursing through the Author, but most importantly…

He felt his heartbeat start again.

The vampire stood frozen at the scene before him. Quiet, inaudible whispers then came from the Author’s lips. Somehow his voice was steady, but incoherent as he mumbled continuously.

Dark hesitantly stepped closer to the Author and got no reaction. Even when he picked up the Author, he stayed focused on his ramblings. 

Wasting no time, Dark teleported back to the manor and made a beeline to Dr. Iplier. The image of Dark carrying the bloodied mess that was the Author must have been shocking judging by Dr. Iplier’s terrified reaction.

“O-Oh my god! Dark, what the hell happened?!” Dr. Iplier nearly yelled.

“That’s not important,” Dark replied with a stern gaze. “Right now you need to tend to his wounds.”

 

Hours passed and Dr. Iplier was freaking out. Dark kept a close eye on the doctor’s treatment, though he wasn’t sure what he was expecting.

“I… I can’t stop the bleeding,” Dr. Iplier exclaimed. He was exhausted from all the tedious work. “His eyes won’t stop bleeding… he should be dead.”

The Author laid unconscious of the medical bed, hooked up to various machines. Despite his odd condition, his heart rate was stable. No matter how much Dr. Iplier cleaned out his eye sockets or used blood clotting medicine, they kept bleeding a steady stream of crimson. The horrid sight complimented the scar he had on his neck from the attack. His rambles never stopped too, throughout all of the doctor’s procedures the incoherent mumbles became a white noise.

“I think this is something out of our control.” Dark focused on the Author’s face as he placed a reassuring hand on Dr. Iplier’s shoulder. He decided to quickly explain what he saw in the forest. Of course, Dr. Iplier was more confused. The Author showed no signs of turning into a vampire as well, which only added to said confusion.

“What’s going on?”

“Souls like this never die so easily, doctor. Clearly, the Author’s powers are persistent.” Dark replied. “You will keep him here under close watch. Make sure to clean out the blood regularly. Just be sure to keep your hunger in check while doing so.” 

“Yes, of course.” Dr. Iplier shuddered under Dark’s stern commands. He was always the best at keeping his hunger in check. If he didn’t he wouldn’t be able to maintain his job at a hospital, afterall. As he continued to tend to the Author’s injuries, he tried to decipher what he was rambling about. 

 

After a week, he woke up. He woke up alone and in the dark, but he woke up. He couldn’t tell where he was and tried to sit up from… a bed? Where was he?

Why can’t he see anything?

Frantic hands began to scratch at the bandages wrapped around his eyes, dying them red. But he couldn’t tell. Even after he tore the soaked bandages off, he saw nothing.

Someone else’s memories flooded his head and made his mind spin. Or where those  _ his  _ memories? It didn’t feel like it. 

_ Clear mind, clear thoughts. _

He slightly relaxed at that memory and tried to figure out his situation. Fast, distant footsteps could be heard outside the room he was in. He managed to calm his rapid breathing and took deep breaths.

“The…” His name seemed to come naturally to him. “The Host resides in an office clinic…” The scene slowly revealed itself with every spoken word.

The Author died in the forest, but the Host lives in his place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... yeah...
> 
> Sorry if this part isn't that good. I really struggled with this lol
> 
> If anything I realized I like writing the Author's character! I mean, I killed him here but maybe I'll write more of him in the regular universe


	7. Days Off Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Host has been particularly tired as of late. It’s no surprise considering his unhealthy lifestyle, but he needs a break. Good thing a pair of androids are quick to set up a vacation for him!
> 
> (This references the past chapters “Bloody Beginnings”)

The Host woke up slouched over his desk again. He groaned as he straightened out his back, cringing as his joints cracked. There was blood, old and new, staining his face and his desk. Thankfully, even in his tired state he had the right mind to move his work away from the mess. The lengths he has to go through, all because of the damned monsters he lives with.

He could feel the heat from the sunlight beaming through his office window. Morning it is, then. Which meant all of the vampires were in the house. A loud sigh came from the bleeding man, but he got up nonetheless.

Despite the fact that he washed his face and changed his bandages, everyone focused on the Host the moment he walked out of his library. He was dragging his bat alongside him, creating a dull sound across the floor. While he still wore a turtleneck, his usual trench coat was hanging over one of his shoulders. The summer heat was taking its toll on the manor and its inhabitants. Sure, there was some AC, but it wasn’t enough to cool down someone with a wardrobe like his.  

The Host mindlessly rubbed the side of his neck as he walked. He never wanted to wear anything more “revealing” than his usual attire anyways.  

Perhaps the vampires could sense his fatigue as well as they could sense his heartbeat. Most kept their distance as the Host walked through the halls, sometimes greeting him kindly but otherwise giving him his space. He wanted some food to power him through the day, though he noticed his pace was slower. Sluggish steps eventually made it to the kitchen. 

The refrigerator had a couple bottles of blood… and some pieces of regular food for the Host. Somedays the overbearing smell of blood was too much, today was one of those days. Eventually he decided to grab an apple for breakfast. He ate the fruit as if he hadn’t eaten in years.

Amongst the shadows hid a few onlookers. The Host could notice their presence even in his tired state. It’s been a couple days since the vampires have hunted and already the Host could tell they were becoming restless. Not restless enough to bother the Host for blood, thankfully, but surely they would start if their fast continued. So now would be a great time to visit the Googles, the Host concluded.

 

Google’s office was as organized as ever. Him and his extensions worked like a well oiled machine, tinkering with whatever project they deemed important. The Host never fully understood what they worked on, but he was encouraged to relax in their office instead of resting elsewhere. Being alone and letting his guard down seemed dangerous for him, through being around four murderous androids (and Bing) fixed that problem. 

Speaking of Bing, he and the Host were spending time on a couch Google had. The Host found solace lying down and resting his head on Bing’s lap, who occasionally carded his fingers through the Host’s hair. It wasn’t long before the Host fell asleep again. All the androids looked at the sleeping man fondly, relieved that he was finally getting some rest.

 

When the Host woke up, Google’s extensions were charging in sleep mode. Bing was in sleep mode too, though the Host was still resting his head on the android’s lap. 

“Hello, Host,” Google greeted. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, actually. For once the Host feels well rested,” he replied, stifling a yawn. “How long was he asleep?”

“About seven hours.”

“Several hours?!” The Host sat upright in hysterics. “The Host apologizes… Google could have woken him up at any time.”

“I suppose so, but I didn’t want to disturb you. The others were quite adamant about letting you rest as well.”

“Did…” The Host turned his head towards Bing. “Did Bing sit there the whole time? Please tell the Host he moved from this spot.”

“If I did I would be lying to you,” Google replied while rolling his eyes at the sleeping android. “Bing had no desire to move. Something about ‘being humbled that you deemed him worthy’, or something ridiculous like that.”

“The Host is not a cat…”

“That’s true, a cat actually sleeps a healthy amount.” Google walked over to Bing and slapped the logo on his shirt as if it was a button. Which resulted in Bing jolting awake with a shout.

“Where am I?!” Bing frantically looked at his surroundings, immediately calming down once he realized where he was. “Oh, sup Host? You sleep alright? I hope I was a good pillow!”

The Host turned his head towards the floor, muttering more apologies. There was a strong laugh as Bing patted him on the back. 

“It’s no big deal, dude!” Bing pointed finger guns at the Host.

“The Host has been exhausted, he can barely think straight.” He put his head in his hands, rubbing his temples slowly.

Both androids exchanged worried looks amongst each other. They’ve noticed how the vampires affect the Host, even without directly interacting with him. The vampires weren’t draining him of his blood, but they definitely were draining him of his energy. 

Humans were… particular creatures. Google learned this from experience. They weren’t perfect, if anything humans were incredibly weak in Google’s eyes, but they were stubborn. Most humans were willing to do a lot if it meant they’d live another day. While the Host wasn’t a prime example of the average human, he still showed signs of these instincts.

According to the older egos, the Host adjusted his life to minimize his interactions with the other vampires for as long as they could remember. His sleep schedule, eating habits, social life, and overall health have suffered so he could avoid being vampire food. He was alive in exchange for his quality of life. 

Google would say the Host’s fear is irrational since the vampires have shown time and time again that they weren’t going to hurt him. Irrational fears were irrational though, so Google couldn’t judge. 

“You need a vacation.” Good thing Google was determined to help his friend. It could be his tertiary objective.

“What…?” The Host lifted his head, tilting it slightly. Perhaps he should have been narrating more, then he wouldn’t have been so surprised.

“Your daily routine has caused you to be emotionally and physically drained. It is proven that a vacation or a change of scenery can exponentially increase productivity,” Google explained matter of factly. The Host still seemed hesitant.

“Where would the Host go?”

“I looked into it while you were asleep. As it turns out, during one of the vampire’s hunts they happened to stumble upon a cottage that a couple owned.” Google decided to leave out the unsavoury details. “The cottage is isolated in the forest and the others agreed to leave you be. If you’d like, I can accompany you.”

“What about the other extensions?” The Host’s mind was buzzing with questions. He doesn’t go out much  _ in general _ . So a vacation? It sounded like a dream.

“The extensions want to stay here. They’ll keep in touch and update us on the rest of the egos.”

“Can I come?” Bing asked abruptly. Google looked at the “default” with annoyance, not bothering to hide his scowl and glare. However, the Host showed Bing a small smile.

“The Host gladly invites Bing’s company alongside Google’s.”

“What? Host-”

“Sick, dude!”

 

A day passed after the Host and the androids planned their group getaway. The cottage wasn’t too far from the manor, just far enough that the Host felt unbothered by potential vampire attacks. He packed lightly, while the androids barely packed anything. Google was still confused as to why Bing was invited, but it wasn’t  _ his  _ vacation, so he didn’t complain. 

The Host was relieved to be away from the egos, to be able to relax and not worry about self defense. Though there was a small part of his mind that reminisced. They were going to a wooden cottage in the forest. The setting seemed all too familiar. The Host mindlessly rubbed the side of his neck. He still had a scar that offered life to him, yet killed another. A turtleneck hid the Author’s scars, but the Host could tell that he would need to change due to the summer heat. 

The trio finally arrived at the cottage after a little under an hour of Google driving. It was a nice place, perfect for a small group of people… or an unfortunate couple. None of them minded how morbid their vacation was, not even the Host. He didn’t care about the victims the vampires left in their path, he only made sure  _ he  _ wasn’t on their menu. And if that mindset got him a free vacation then so be it. 

To the trio’s delight, they found out the cottage had electricity and running water. The cottage was dead centre in the forest, nearly hidden amongst the trees. They would be staying here for three days. It was all the Host could handle, being away from his beloved library and work was odd afterall.

Despite there being electricity in the cottage, there was no AC. The Host was already panting slightly after he finished unpacking. 

“You’re going to get heat stroke in that outfit, Host. Did you not pack other clothing?” Google walked into the Host’s room, Bing quickly following behind. 

“Yes, the Host did.” He scratched at his neck again. “But he is worried about the repercussions of changing.”

“You don’t gotta worry about vampires attacking you, bro,” Bing interjected. “If someone tries to attack you we’ll deal with them.”

“It’s not just about that.”

Both androids tilted their head in confusion at the Host’s statement. The Host sighed and got a grey t-shirt from his bag. 

“The Host supposes if the androids are going to be close to him, then they should know.” He faced away from them and started to take off his turtleneck. “He trusts that they will not judge his scars.”

“Scars? I don’t recall you getting hurt in the manor,” Google pondered.

The Host removed his sweater and spent no time changing into his t-shirt. In the split second between changing, the androids had a perfect view of his torso. There were scars ranging from different sizes littered across his back, assumedly more across his front. The most noticeable one was the scar on the side of his neck. It looked like he got mauled by a vampire with dark claw marks contrasting his pale skin and a distinct bite mark in the center of it all. Even when he put on the shirt, the androids could still see most of the injury.

“O-Oh my god…” Bing covered his mouth but couldn’t hide his gasp. He let out a surprised yelp when Google smacked the back of his head for his reaction, though the stotic android seemed just as concerned.

“These scars are not necessarily the Host’s injuries, they are the Author’s.” He fidgeted under the android’s gaze before pointing to his neck. “This and the eyes are the wounds that killed him.”  

Bing’s lips quirked downwards as he clenched his fists to his sides. “Did the others do this?” His voice was uncharacteristically cold, even Google was taken aback from his tone.

“No, the man that did this is long gone. In fact, Dark saved the Host before he could die.”

While still huffy, Bing calmed down exponentially. The very idea of the other egos scarring the Host made him see red, Google would be lying if he said he didn’t see that furious shade of red too. But Dark was the reason why their friend was standing before them, so they all got a pass today. Surely, if they had the opportunity to kill the man that did this again, they’d do it within a robotic heartbeat.

The trio stood in silence for what seemed like an eternity, not even the sound of the Host’s narrations was present. He didn’t dare to know what the androids thought of him. Slow footsteps made their way towards him, and before he knew it Bing pulled him into a hug. The shorter android buried his face in the Host’s shoulder. Google made his way towards the Host too, not comfortable with intimate gestures and instead placing a gentle hand on the Host’s free shoulder. The Host welcomed their comfort.

“God, I’m so sorry dude,” Bing said, voice muffled. 

“Are any of these marks new? Or was the Author  _ that  _ reckless?” Google asked which caused Bing to shoot him a glare for his bluntness. “The extensions and I can keep a close eye on you during threatening scenarios.”

“Every scar dawning the Host’s skin is from the Author being particularly rowdy. It would be unwise for the Host to engage in such behaviour in his state,” He said with a quiet laugh.

Both androids backed away slightly from the Host, though they were still close. The air was still heavy around them. 

“The Host is relieved that his friends understand, not many have seen this much. The Host is glad-” His voice suddenly cracked and he bit his lip, only for a soft sob to be heard. “He is glad someone cares for him like this…” 

His whole body shuddered before he was openly crying. Instead of tears cascading down his face, his eye bandages deepened red as blood poured from his eye sockets. While his bandages caught most of the damage, there were steady streaks of blood falling down his face. He tried in vain to silent his cries with his hand and muffled what would have been loud sobs. His face flushed red with embarrassment, but at least he was overwhelmingly happy rather than sad. 

Bing went over the hug the Host again. He tightened his grip as if he was afraid of losing his friend right then and there. Google gently detached the Host’s hand from his face. Immediately after, he cupped the Host’s cheek and used his thumb to brush away stray blood falling. He effectively smeared the blood and stained his fingers, but it was the thought that counts. They’ve never seen the Host this vulnerable. Loud sobs eventually quieted down to minor hiccups, and the Host rested his chin on top of Bing’s head.

“This vacation was supposed to relax you,” Google sighed. “We apologize.”

“There’s no need.” The Host gave him a shaky smile.

Bing lifted his head and smiled back at the Host. There was a determined gleam in his eyes as his usual chipper attitude returned. “We still got a couple of days, your getaway is just getting started! We can only go up from here, right?” 

“For once, you’re right,” Google teased. In return Bing stuck out his tongue at him. “You should eat, Host. The inhabitants before us stored some ingredients in the fridge. Please, allow me to cook for you.” It was more of a statement than a question since Google left before the Host could answer. 

Now alone, Bing finally detached himself from the Host. The taller man had an unreadable expression, occasionally shifting warily from the attention. 

“The Host would like to apologize for his display…” His voice was course due to the stress he put it through. Bing laughed and patted him on the shoulder.

“There’s no need,” Bing repeated with a knowing smile. “Come on, you should clean up your face before there’s blood everywhere. This place is too much a crime scene already.”

“Lead the way, friend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is gonna be another two parter, sorry about that but I have a lot of ideas! I’m working on the second part but I am a bit busy at the moment. 
> 
> I need more ideas for this au... I’ve got another prompt but other than that I’ve got nothing ;^;


	8. Days Off Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio's vacation continues! Google and Bing are determined to ensure that the Host has the best vacation ever!

The first day of the Host’s vacation was heavy, but not unwelcome. Despite that revealing ordeal, the rest of the day was calm for the trio. So when the second day of their getaway dawned on them Bing was determined to make the setting more light-hearted. With or without Google because he didn’t need that grump’s help! 

Bing was _planning_ on making breakfast, but _someone_ beat him to it. That blue bastard. But what matters is that the Host is enjoying himself, yeah, that’s what Bing’s prioritizing right now. 

“I’m glad you like the food, Host.” Google smiled at the Host sitting at the kitchen table. Then he glanced at Bing beside him, his smile changed into a mischievous smirk. “I am the better cook, after all.”

Bing shot a surprised look at Google, a smirk still present on the other’s face. So that’s how he wants to play this? Steady, unbroken eye contact was a silent pact between the androids. There was no prize at the end of their adventure, honestly their rivalry was pointless in this case. Their “competition” would only end with one of the androids pride higher than the other, and a happy Host of course. 

“Hey, I can make lunch for ya! It’ll taste hella good, better than Google’s slop I bet,” Bing taunted. 

“Actually I’ve already planned lunch _and_ dinner.” That damned smirk seemed to be permanently plastered on Google’s face. Bing scowled, but he wouldn’t let this small set back defeat him.

“The Host may be blind, but he’s not oblivious.” There was no bite to the Host’s words as he smiled while eating. “He is not going to forcefully stop the androids antics, however they should be reminded that this is a vacation. The Host does not want them to serve his every whim for this ‘competition’ or whatever they are bickering about.”

“Of course, Bing and I have no intention of ruining your getaway.”

“Yeah this is just harmless fun, y’know?”

“As long as Bing and Google promise not to let their rivalry take over and prevent them from enjoying themselves.”

“We promise,” Both androids agreed as they watched the Host gather his dishes. The androids exchanged wary looks amongst each other. 

“Yo, I can wash those for you, Hosty.”

But they lied, they were totally going to one up each other all day. 

 

The Host knew that, at their core, the androids were working to enhance his vacation as much as possible. However, he couldn’t help but think otherwise whenever he noticed them whisper snarky remarks at each other or “accidentally” shove one another. Admittedly, it was amusing to watch them doing their best to keep their competition a secret and failing horribly. 

At the moment, the Host was enjoying a nice cup of coffee. It was prepared by Bing… after he nearly broke Google’s arm racing him to the coffee machine. 

“Usually people fight because they do not want to do chores, not because they want to do them.”

“We’re not fighting!”

Luckily the Host never found the androids rivalry annoying, even in this circumstance. Though he did worry that they were doing all the work, but they insisted that he should relax for once in his life and not worry about that. Their antics were the only chaotic aspect of this vacation. Other than that, nothing eventful has occurred, which is exactly what the Host needs. He’s slept more in these past couple of days than he has in a month in the manor. Concerning, yes, but it’s the little steps that matter. 

Google has been cooking all of the Host’s meals thus far and providing company whenever welcomed. It was pure luck that Bing managed to beat Google to a kind gesture today, and he was eager to beat the “superior” android in something. And help out his friend in need, that too. Now what could he do? He rummaged through the cupboards to try to find inspiration. Food seemed like the best option since the Host didn’t want an adventurous vacation, but Google was always two steps ahead of him in that category.

Perhaps there was something Bing could do that Google hasn’t thought of yet.

 

It was the last day of the trio’s vacation. The Host thought that fact was bittersweet. On one hand, this getaway cleared his mind and allowed him to think of future writing projects that made him eager to return to his library and start working. On the other hand, it meant leaving this nice cottage in exchange for returning to the manor. Where he’d most likely return to his poor living habits. 

So the Host has been making the most of this last day, he has already spent the morning wandering around the forest to take in the atmosphere. He made sure not to wander off too far though because the last time that happened, he died. Technically speaking. 

He wasn’t sure what to do next though. Honestly, he was counting on Google and Bing to make this last day interesting. Which wasn’t an outlandish request considering everything that has happened thus far. 

“We should have a campfire!” Bing exclaimed. “After dinner I can make a sick fire for us! We can tell stories or something.”

“Should you really be in charge of a fire?” Google asked condescendingly. 

“I’m a search engine too, y’know? Have some faith.” Bing focused his attention on the Host after scoffing at Google. “I found some stuff for s’mores too, so you can have some grub while we’re out there.”

The Host hummed thoughtfully at that last comment. “The Host has never had s’mores before now that he thinks of it,” He pondered, to which Bing faked an exaggerated gasp. 

“Well then we _definitely_ have to make a campfire now! S’mores really add to the camping experience. If I could eat, I’d have a ton of ‘em.”

 

By the time nightfall came, Bing rushed into the forest to collect the necessary materials for a fire. The Host found himself resting on the cottage’s porch, taking in the sounds of the night and enjoying the cool breeze against his skin. A subconscious part of his mind relished in the night and the quiet that came with it, but the sane part of his mind liked not getting jumped by monsters and preferred to stay inside. He didn’t bother muttering his narrations as he heard Google make his way beside him. There was no need for greetings, the two stood in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

Google didn’t understand the pleasures of doing nothing like the Host did, his entire system was itching to return home and work in his projects with his fellow extensions. Him competing in menial tasks with Bing helped satisfy that need while also giving him a chance to prove his superiority to the little default. But it was nice to see the Host so content in the end, the omnipotent man deserved it after… everything.

Google found himself glancing at the Host’s scars more often than not.

“The Host’s scars must be an interesting sight for Google to keep staring at them.” His words didn’t have a hostile tone to it as he was more curious than offended.

Google averted his eyes. “My apologies, I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” He paused. “It’s just a shame I wasn’t there to deal with the culprit.”

The Host laughed at Google’s serious tone, to which the android tilted his head at him in confusion. “Google is such a sophisticated android, yet he loves to use violence to silence his foes. That night was a blur, but the Host is sure Dark gave the culprit what he deserved.”

“He better have.”

More laughter, more confused Google. “These scars are the Author’s undoing, not the Host’s. It would be best if Google remembered that fact.” 

“The Author…” The name felt weird on Google’s tongue. He was too young and never met the man, but he’s heard general explanations. No one told him how the Author died until this vacation. “What was he like?”

The Host’s frown made Google regret his words as soon as they came out, not a bit of laughter present. He was about to apologize before the Host spoke again. “The Author is everything the Host is not. Where the Host is kind, the Author was cruel. Where the Host is merciful, the Author killed without hesitation.” The Host pressed his lips into a tight line before speaking his next words quietly. “Where the Host is trapped, the Author was free.”

Silence befell between the duo once more. Google looked up at the Host and scanned his features accordingly. Regret, that was the emotion he found. He recalls Dark telling him that the Author lived by himself for most of his existence. A lone wolf, free to do whatever he so desired. Now that he thinks of it, he doesn’t remember the last time the Host left the manor.

Humans were such… interesting creatures.

“Fears aren’t erased within seconds, but I think it’s time for you to start working on them.” Google looked at the dark forest and the shadows lurking within. For once, he understood the fear. Sure, he and Bing could navigate through the woods with ease, but as he looked at the shadows through as prey’s perspective, all he saw were predators hungry for their next meal. 

“The Host would like that, he really would, but sometimes that seems like a fool’s errand.”

“Where the Author was alone, you are surrounded by people who want to help.” When Google looked at the Host again, he saw someone who was strong, but beaten down. Someone who could be built up again. “The others have shown time and time again that they won’t hurt you. They’re all idiots, but I can vouch for them… and I can vouch for you too.”

“If Google keeps speaking like that then the Host will cry again.” A quiet laugh hid the ever so slight quiver of his lips. “He thanks Google and Bing for their support. He’s truly grateful for their presence in this journey.”

“You’re the only human I respect, Host. I think it’s about time I start showing it.”

“The Host believes you have showcased that fact quite a bit during these past few days. He’s never been so smothered in attention before…”

Google merely shrugged at that last comment. That just means he did a good job, and Bing too, but that didn’t matter to Google. It was quiet again, though the air around them was tranquil. Eventually, the distance sound of footsteps could be heard as Bing returned from his exploit. Google rolled his eyes upon seeing Bing’s wide grin, the other android carrying an armful of various branches and rocks.

“I’m back~” Bing singsonged. “Did you dudes miss me?”

“No.”

“Of course, Bing looks successful in his journey. Does he need help setting up the campfire?”

“Nah, I got this one.” Bing dropped his supplies with a loud thud. “I still gotta get the stuff for your s’mores, too. This is gonna be great, trust me dude!”

 

The Host was never one for sweets, but Bing’s eager attitude and encouragement made him think otherwise. There was a soft glow that illuminated the trio as the campfire burned a steady flame. Bing did a good job making it, much to Google’s surprise. The Host ate a few more s’mores between various smalltalk with the androids. 

“We should tell campfire stories now,” Bing suggested. “It’ll be like those camp movies I’ve watched!”

“Those were horror movies,” Google said matter of factly. 

“That doesn’t matter, they had fun up until that creepy doll showed up. I’ll start!”

Bing told a story that he made up off the top of his head. Or he _tried_ to, at least. Through his stutters and long pauses, Bing told a tale of wizards and magic users. Or was it a horror story with a serial killer? At a certain point, none of them could tell. 

“You’re horrible at this,” Google interupted.

“Shut up, I’m trying!”

“The Host thinks Bing’s story was… a good attempt?”

“Don’t patronize me, dude,” Bing grumbled before turning to Google. “Why don’t _you_ try, Google? See how easy it is.”

Google didn’t pause like Bing, but he spoke his steady story with no emotion. Nonetheless, it was a story about a deranged man with an intense distrust for his neighbour that donned the eye of a vulture. Eventually, the man’s madness drives him to kill his neighbour so that he could never see that eye again. He hid the body underneath the floorboards, but everything goes wrong once he swears he hears his neighbours heartbeat continue beating. Wait… that sounded familiar.

“This is an Edgar Allan Poe story, _Tell-Tale Heart_ ,” The Host noticed.

“Oh my - Google, did you just look up a story to tell?!” Bing had his head in his hands. The other android looked confused by the question.

“Were we not supposed to do that?”

“Perhaps the Host should teach the two androids about storytelling in the future,” he said, barely stifling a laugh. “May the Host tell his story now?”

Of course the Host was the best at storytelling, his voice could soothe the corrupted. His story was about a scared forest spirit. The spirit controlled a beautiful forest that stretched across a grand land, but was too afraid to let any sort of outside life in to bask in its beauty. Eventually, they noticed their forest start to wilt. As powerful as the spirit was, they couldn’t care for every aspect of the forest alone. So they were left with a dilemma, let parts of the forest die or invite help from the outside. They wanted to keep the original beauty of the forest so, hesitantly, they invited a colony of bumblebees to help cater to the flowers. The bees never hurt the spirit like they thought, instead they watched as the bees slowly help their forest. Perhaps the spirit could let others from the outside in too?

“Was that alright?” The Host wrapped up his story and cleared his throat. He liked that story quite a bit himself, he made a mental note to repeat it on his radio show.

“That was amazing, Host!” Bing cheered. Even Google looked impressed, they loved to listen to the Host’s radio show so it was nice to hear a live telling. “Man, we really suck compared to you.” Both androids shifted awkwardly.

“Nonsense, it just takes practice. The Host would love to tell more tales, but it’s getting late now. He can help his friends disassemble the fi-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Bing interrupted with a grin. “I made this fire and I can take it down, too.”

“The Host feels like the two androids are serving him like butlers.” He scratched the back of his head. “This vacation has been perfect, but they must let him repay the favour in one way or another.”

“Don’t worry-”

“Oh, _I've actually_ been trying to nail this trick for ages now. If you could narrate it so that I don’t lose my arm that’d be dope!”

“Bing.” Google shut him up with a glare that could put Medusa to shame. “The Host shouldn’t worry about such antics.” He adjusted his glasses after scolding Bing with a heavy sigh. “We can talk about this when we return home.” 

“Ah, right… home.” The Host’s voice trailed off as he pondered to himself. He felt the cold breeze of the forest send shivers down his spine, but he didn’t feel as scared anymore. “The Host is looking forward to returning home.”

Both androids found themselves smiling at the Host’s comment. Their rivalry temporarily pushed aside as they all sat by the cackling fire. Who won in the end though? The Host, by the looks of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This collection was supposed to be just oneshots. Yet, here I am, making an interconnected storyline... C'est la vie! I like it though, especially the dynamics I made between the trio
> 
> Host smiles and laughs a lot in this chapter, which is refreshing to write considering how I usually write him in this AU. There's only way to go from here. Hosty's gonna get closer to a vamp! Which vamp? Who knows, I'm debating that (feel free to give me suggestions!)


	9. Nightmares Comforted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Host begrudgingly wakes up after having a nightmare. It was familiar, the images he saw were a common occurrence that he had to suffer through. As common as the nightmare was, it doesn't help with his fatigue. So now the Host is wandering the halls as tired as can be. Even in his tried state he noticed how restless the vampires are acting in they hungry state. So he has to rely on Google to watch over him.

The Host woke up breathing heavily. 

_Pain. It hurt so much._

His knuckles turned white as he gripped his covers with an iron grip. He tried in vain to calm his shuddered breathing, mumbling words at random. Images flickered back into his mind from last night.

_In an instant his world was dark. He couldn’t see anything._

Everything was still dark. The Host couldn’t find the energy to mutter anything more than a couple words. He gasped and clawed at his neck, his nails scratching at his old scar. Writhing between the tangled sheets, he sobbed. Memories kept flooding back to him.

_He could feel the blood flowing from his throat. Sticking to his clothes and matting his hair._

Blood cascaded from his eyes and stained his bed, but he didn’t care. The Host curled to his side, still mumbling indecipherable nonsense. He swallowed harshly, then took deep breaths as if he was just suffocated. Slowly, but surely he began to take long, deep breaths instead of hyperventilating. He rubbed his scar, whimpering as he felt the dull pain his scratching created. The images were clear. They always were.

_This wasn’t him. This wasn’t his pain. The Host didn’t die._

The Host rolled back onto his back with a loud groan. His head was pounding. There was blood dripping down his face and making him taste the bitter metallic. Sweat made his clothes stick to his skin to add to his concoction of uncomfortable. But he was alive, his pain was in the past. The faint sound of birds chirping helped him focus on the present.

_Clear mind, clear thoughts._

A quick shower and a change of bedsheets made him feel… exactly the same. Recovery was never a quick process. 

It was always hard to go about his day after nights like this, but he’d be bed ridden far too often if he stayed every time it happened. His movements were sluggish, but he was still moving. His narrations were slow, but he was still speaking. His bat felt abnormally heavy, but he still carried it.

The others watched him from the shadows. Usually they would keep their distance on days like this, but today was different. They were _hungry._ Dark and Wilford were out on a hunt after finding out how little their food supplies were. Which left the Host in a house with very few sensible minds. 

There was Google, of course, but nowadays he isolated himself to work on his latest projects. The Host recalls him calling his projects “his extensions”. Google wanted more non-vampire inhabitants, and if he had to make his own housemates then goddamnit he was gonna do it. It was quite the impressive task, and required next to no disruptions. Though he made an exception with the Host. 

The Host kept his hand against the wall to support his unsteady steps. Eventually, he stood before Google’s room and quietly knocked on the door.

“I’m busy,” a blunt voice replied.

“Good morning, Google,” the Host greeted, a faint smile forming. 

There was a pause before the Host heard shuffling within Google’s room. Soon after, the android opened the door and blinked at him.

“You look tired.”

“Thanks.” The Host leaned against the doorframe. “May the Host come in?” 

Google nodded and stepped aside. His room was always minimalistic as he had no need for a bed and the like. However, with his new project his room was abnormally messy. Various metal scraps were scattered around, alongside tools and blueprints. Google himself looked like he got in a fight, much to the Host’s amusement. The usually prim and proper android had tousled hair and oil staining his skin and clothes. If he experienced fatigue he’d be as tired as the Host

“Please be careful,” Google instructed. “This isn’t a safe environment for a human.” A nearby device sparked next to him. He quickly went to his workbench to fix the problem.

“The Host noticed,” he mumbled. “He supposes the purpose of his visit is redundant now. The others are getting restless so he was going to ask if he could stay with Google.”

Google paused his work and glanced at the Host, taking in his condition. The Host swayed slightly as he stood. “Right.” He stood up and began to put away his tools. “You’re at high risk of getting attacked in your state. Allow me to accompany you for the day.”

“Thanks,” he replied, more genuine this time. There was an odd comfort within the android’s blunt wording. 

“First, I need to get cleaned up. Make yourself some food in the meantime. I’ll meet you downstairs soon.”

The Host nodded and left. He was running on autopilot as he made his way to the kitchen. Relying mostly on muscle memory, he barely listened to his narrations. So when an unwanted guest followed him to the kitchen, he was none the wiser.

“Oh, hey Host,” Bim, the newest addition to the house, called out. 

Bim was merely met with a hum in acknowledgement. The Host was crashing more with every passing moment. 

“You don’t look too hot.” Bim walked up to him, only to be surprised by him nearly collapsing. “What the - are you okay?!” He stumbled back as he caught him. 

The Host swore under his breath. It was like someone was bashing his head with a bat, his headache made his ears ring. He tried to back away, but noticed that Bim never let go of him.

“I-I can bring you to Dr. Iplier! I can - I can… um,” Bim gulped nervously as the Host rested his head on his shoulder. He felt his stomach churn as he sensed the other’s pulse. His head was right next to his neck. It was pure instinct when he used one of his hands to pull down the Host’s turtleneck, revealing a perfect outlet to sink his teeth into. However, he didn’t expect to see a horrific scar. “Oh my god… what the fuck…?”

Bim barely registered the Host’s startled sounds. He stared for a moment, like a trance, but the primal part of him began to graze his fangs over the skin.

Whatever strength he still had, the Host used it to grip his bat tightly. Breathing hard through his nose, he gritted his teeth and slowly raised his bat. Before he could make any hits, Bim was ripped away from him. A loud slap echoed throughout the quiet kitchen, then Google slammed Bim against the wall. He held Bim’s arms tightly, with the vampire’s front pressed against the wall.

“What were you doing?” Google growled.

“L-Let me go-!” Bim cried.

Google only held him tighter. “There are strict rules in this household, no mutilating under _any_ circumstances. That includes feeding on others.”

“I wasn’t going to bite him!” Bim gasped at the pain. “I-I swear!”

“Your actions will be reported to Dark immediately. You’re lucky that I have to follow the same rules.” He let him go to check up on the Host, who was quick to adjust his collar before he could see anything. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, the Host isn’t hurt.” The adrenaline snapped him awake, though he knew this would be short lived. Blood seeped down his face as he continued to grip his bat tightly. Anger seethed through him.

When Google grabbed his arm to guide him out the room, the Host kept his feet planted. Google was about to question him before he interrupted.

“Go on ahead. The Host will catch up in a moment.” While wary, Google nodded and stepped out the kitchen. Which left the Host with Bim. 

“I… I don’t know what happened to me,” Bim started. He was rubbing his arms with an apologetic face. “Host, I’m sorry-”

The Host slammed Bim against the wall again before his could finish, covering his mouth with a clamped hand. He leaned forward so he could whisper in Bim’s ear.

“If Bim ever talks about what he saw today,” he began through clenched teeth, “then the Host will find a way to get rid of him. Not even Dark will know what happened. Is that understood?”

With fear in his eyes, Bim nodded frantically. Instantly, the Host let him go and promptly went to find Google, leaving Bim in a heap of fear. To no one’s surprise, Google was lurking nearby the kitchen to ensure that the Host was safe.

“What did you say?” Google tilted his head.

“A warning,” replied the Host in a cold tone. 

“Did you hurt him?”

“Not physically.”

Google nodded his head and continued to make their way to the Host’s room. Surely what happened could be omitted by the rules. Mutilating could be described as the _physical_ harm someone inflicts onto a victim. He glanced at the other to run some scans on his condition. True to the Host’s word, there were no injuries. However, there were other results, certain emotions remained heightened.

Anger and embarrassment.

Perhaps this was a normal protocol for humans, but Google still was wary. He’s never heard the Host speak with such venom nor carry himself with such a proper posture. It wasn’t much of a surprise, everyone in this household had some sort of dark side to them after all. 

The walk to the Host’s room was short. As Google opened the window’s blinds, the Host didn’t hesitate to relax on his bed. A loud sigh came from the Host, but Google paid no mind. It was silent, downright peaceful even. Though perhaps that was just Google's observation. He noticed the Host's face furrowed in thought when he glanced at him.

“You need to be more careful. Humans are unable to function properly without an adequate amount of rest,” Google said whilst analysing the cloudy day outside.

“Is there any point?”

Google paused, then looked at the Host. “What?”

“One day the others will snap. One day Google will be too late. Accidents happen. Should the Host bother trying if the result will be the same?”

Google blinked in surprise. He processed the Host’s words over and over again in his system. The conclusion was the same each time. The human before him thought he was going to die. His face automatically morphed in facial expression, a deep frown with furrowed brows. He didn’t want this human to die. “You’re giving up?”

“The Host isn’t sure yet. He’s too tired to see the future.”

“Please don’t give up,” Google impulsively said.

“Why?” The Host immediately retorted.

There was silence again, not at all peaceful like before. For once Google was stumped by the question. His system couldn’t provide an answer and was buzzing from the blank response. 

The Host gave a quiet laugh at the silent joke. He turned his head in Google’s direction, offering a small smile. “Does Google care about the Host that much?”

_This goes against my purpose._ Google’s systems quickly warned. He glanced down at his own hands, watching as they twitched with the need for defiance. Slowly, but surely he reached over to cup the Host’s face, dirtying his hand with blood in the process. He didn’t care, this was his mess now. “Please don’t give up,” he repeated.

There was another sigh, or perhaps it was a content hum. The Host placed his hand over Google’s, letting the moment linger. Google briefly thought about how much the Host’s hand juxtaposed his. They were rough, worn down after years of surviving. He wondered how long the Host thought about this. 

“The Host’s creation was an accident. Surely, his death will fall under the same pattern.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it.” Google returned his hand and stared at the blood staining it. He still didn’t mind. The Host had much more blood on his hands even if it wasn’t showing. “I’ll stay here while you rest. Get some sleep, clearly you’re not thinking straight. We can assess this later.”

The Host nodded and began to relax tremendously. He fell asleep quickly, still fully clothed, right on top of his covers, but Google let him be. The sounds of his soft breathing and the sight of his chest slowly rising and falling helped Google ease his panicked systems. He was still here, he still had a lot of time ahead of him. To be safe, Google ran one more scan over his state. There were different emotions heightened. 

Fatigue and hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn’t abandon this au I swear, I just don’t have any ideas. I’m trying to continue this story the best I can, this au will always be one of my favourites after all. Consider this me slowly getting back into the swing of things. 
> 
> I never expanded Google and the Host’s dynamics as much as I wanted to, so here’s a little moment in their past. A bit sad, definitely, but this Host was always much more nilistic than my other depicts of him. Also, Google not exactly knowing what to do with emotions? Amazing, I love writing him like that. Happy late birthday to him btw!


	10. Lost and Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A request from a friend on tumblr: Dark having to find and comfort Eric

For once, Dark was relaxed. He finished his work for the day, and surprisingly, no one barged into his office with some nonsense for him to deal with. A wine glass filled with a good amount of blood was swirled lightly in his hand, and in the other was a book he’s been meaning to read. It’s what he deserved after all his tedious tasks.

His peaceful solace was short lived, however. It always was short lived.

“Dark?” Bim knocked on the door. “We need some help…”

With a heavy sigh, Dark let Bim in. “What’s the problem this time?”

“Uh, well…” He shifted under Dark’s emotionless gaze. “It’s that new guy, Eric.”

Immediately, Dark tilted his head and glared at Bim. “What did you do to him?” His new pupil was to not be messed with under any circumstances, not unless someone has a death wish. 

“It-It wasn’t me!” Bim squeaked. “It was the Jims! They wanted to play a prank on Eric, and scared him with loud noises… now he’s hiding under the couch. None of us have a tiny bat form so we can’t get him out.”

“Where are the Jims?”

“I don’t know, hiding from you probably?”

Dark didn’t waste anymore time. He stormed out of his office, leaving Bim behind, and went to the living room to investigate. He’ll deal with the Jims later, no one escaped his punishments. Right now he had a bat to save. 

Just as Bim described, there was a lot of chaos surrounding the couch. Dr. Iplier was crouched down looking presumably at Eric, coaxing the bat with reassurances. Wilford was shining a flashlight under the couch in a vain attempt to help.  Dr. Iplier immediately straightened up when he noticed Dark. “Oh thank god you showed up,” he sighed. “I can’t get him out of here.”

No words were said as Dark made his way to the couch. Well, at least nothing was said to the others. He grabbed the flashlight as he looked under the couch. “Eric? Where are you?” Soon after he saw Eric’s handkerchief in a small heap. It twitched slightly upon hearing his voice. “You’re not in trouble, it’s okay.” A tiny head poked out from underneath the cloth, revealing Eric’s tiny bat form. Eric was more fluffed up than normal due to his cloth hiding space. If he wasn’t surrounded by his fellows, he would coo at the distressed vampire’s appearance. 

A soft squeak left Eric’s trembling lips. He cautiously inched forward towards Dark, clumsily dragging his handkerchief along with him. Dark cast a quick, but stern look at the others. The silent command made everyone leave as soon as possible, though Wilford did chuckle at him and pat him on the shoulder.

“You’re safe now, darling.” His tone was much softer as he spoke alone. “Come along now, I’ll take you to my office.”

Eventually Eric crawled out and looked around, handkerchief held in his mouth. He didn’t protest when Dark gently scooped him up and held him in his hands. Hugging his handkerchief close, he curled up Dark’s hand and continued to shiver. In his bat form, Eric was no bigger than Dark’s palm, easily one of the tiniest bat forms amongst the egos. Undeniably adorable, but Dark wouldn’t say that out loud.

The trip to his office was quiet. When Dark closed the door behind him, he made his way to his desk and placed Eric on it. The bat squeaked quietly into his handkerchief, looking anxiously at Dark as he gazed at his scared form. Dark’s expression was often unreadable, but now Eric could have swore he saw a hint of sympathy.

“Would you like to talk about it?”

Instead of a tiny bat sitting on the desk, Eric changed forms and sat hunched over, legs dangling off the table. Dark didn’t protest his position.

“Th-The Jims… they - they snuck up behind me and, um, and they scared me,” Eric instinctively hid the scar on his neck, fingers twitching as they touched the ridged marks. He retracted his hand away as if he was shocked, instead using his hand to clutch at his handkerchief. “I’m… I’m sorry…” he said with his head hanging low.

“There’s no need to apologize.” 

He kept his head down as he desperately fought away tears, shaking his head slightly at Dark’s comment. He shouldn’t have been so scared,  _ so pathetic.  _ How dare he cower in Dark’s presence and waste his time?

“If it’s any consolation,” Dark started, “I will be talking to the Jims later today about their behaviour.” Eric stayed silent at his comment, now pulling at his handkerchief. Dark’s eyes softened ever so slightly, but the gesture went unnoticed. Various words and sentences buzzed in his mind, yet none of them seemed right for his new pupil. He mindlessly glanced at the scar peeking above Eric’s shirt collar, commenting to himself how new the marks looked. A freshly born fawn sat before him, and it felt like it would take an eternity to teach him how to stand.

“Dark…” Eric’s weak voice started, “I can’t, um, I-I can’t-” His voice cracked and interrupted his thoughts. Quiet sobs were the only sound within the otherwise silent office. 

The sound rang in Dark’s ears and made him frown. “You can’t what, darling?” His voice was uncharacteristically soft as he stepped cautiously closer to Eric. The younger vampire flinched when he placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, but Eric tried his best to relax soon after, though Eric was still shivering profusely. 

“Can’t… c-can’t…” Coherent words barely left his lips. He took off his glasses in haste and buried his face in his handkerchief.

“Take your time,” Dark softly cooed, “It’s okay.”

Dark’s form was blurry from the tears, but Eric peeked up from his handkerchief. Through his unfocused gaze, he managed to see glimpses of Dark’s worried expression. “I can’t - it-it’s too much! Everything… it’s too much…” 

“I understand. This is a hard environment to get used to.”

Eric whimpered, tongue tied. The scared, innocent look he gave Dark was enough to make any monster pity him. It was a look that made Dark feel more man than monster.

“Everyone is afraid when they first change,” Dark continued. “It’s a normal occurrence. Why, I remember being afraid when I was your age.”

“Really…?” Eric sniffled, disbelief clear in his frail tone. “Um, when - when did that happen?”

Dark pondered for a moment before shrugging. “Sometime in the 1920’s. This is going to be a slow process, but I’ll be with you every step of the way.” He reached over to his desk and picked up his leftover wine glass of blood, offering it to Eric. “You should drink.”

When Dark said that Eric realized he was starting to feel hungry. However, his shaky and unsteady hands made holding the glass a difficult task. Good thing Dark kept a firm grip. As the blood shook within the glass Eric retracted his hands again and placed them firmly on his lap. “Sorry,” he murmured. 

“It’s alright.” Dark, instead of putting down the glass, reached over and held Eric’s hand to guide it towards the drink. Eric’s hand was still shaky, but Dark managed to help him until he could put the glass to his lips. “I’ll always be here to help.”

Eric drank a good amount of blood before pulling away. Dark’s words resonated with him, echoing in his mind. He has never heard such words before. “You promise?” He looked up at him with hopeful eyes, utterly surprised when he saw him nod back.

“You have my eternity.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't formally introduced Eric into this au but this request gave me an opportunity. I do want him and Dark close (it'll be another arc alongside Host's) so this is a taste of what that's gonna be like. 
> 
> I did figure out who to make Host befriend! Finally lol
> 
> I was planning on it being Wilford but I'm not sure how to write him so I thought of something else. Stay tuned! I didn't forget about this au I'm just busy lol

**Author's Note:**

> I randomly came up with this idea on my tumblr. It's probably a weird concept but I had lots of fun writing this!! 
> 
> Tumblr link: https://lamiasluck.tumblr.com

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Urges](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19464712) by [Emptynarration](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emptynarration/pseuds/Emptynarration)




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